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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26803594">Only You'll Be Lost Here When It's Over</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitchinthedark/pseuds/Glitchinthedark'>Glitchinthedark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY WHUMPTOBER 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Buried Alive, Drug Use, Fic, Gen, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Umbrella Academy - Freeform, caged, whumptober2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:01:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26803594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitchinthedark/pseuds/Glitchinthedark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaus can unknowingly traverse the land between life and death, but the lines between the reality of his power and imagination easily blur. Just another image lost in a dream, a vision forlorn in an inebriated state of thought.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY WHUMPTOBER 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Only You'll Be Lost Here When It's Over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The air was stale, a haze so thick it slowly choked you from the inside out as it ripped shreds from your lungs with each exhale. On the rare occasion light fought its way through the dust it became a blinding amalgamation of blinding pain and unstoppable terror. It was like being buried alive, still able to breathe and see, slowly being suffocated by your own surroundings in a slow, drawn out torture. Five had lost count of the days he had spent in this wasteland, unable to return back to a time before the destruction, he found himself scavenging among the rubble for any trace of life or sustenance of which to build up his strength and keep him alive. He was nearing the edge of insanity, his mind delirious with dehydration and sleep deprivation as he wandered the desolate perimeters of the unrecognisable city, one he once knew to be home. Was anything he saw even real? It had become difficult to separate the hallucinations from the realities. There were no people, no lives left to guide him, a cell for the mind lit by a fast decaying light of hope. </p><p>He wasn’t truly alive, yet he wasn’t truly dead. As he jumped through time, he had traversed the borders of his own mortality. He had become stuck, caged into a world bordering both life and death.</p><p>---------------------------</p><p>“Vanya he’s not here, I’m sorry!” Klaus sighed as he rolled the last edges of the joint between his fingers, desperate for an endless break from the hassle of his siblings asking him to conjure his brother. “I can’t conjure him and trust me; dad has made me try to no end.”<br/>
Vanya was stubborn in her thoughts, unless there was proof Five was dead, she wouldn’t believe it. He had to be out there somewhere, he wouldn’t just abandon the family, abandon her, no matter how angry he was with dad. </p><p>“Look, I know its tough accepting he’s gone.” Klaus pulled himself up from the edge of his bad and placed his free hand sympathetically on her shoulder. “Sometimes, we just have to accept there’s nothing we can do.” He too missed his brother, even if he was sometimes too self-confident for his own good.<br/>
“So that’s it? You’re just going to give up?” Her voice withered away into a broken whisper as she tried to hold back the tears in her head. Exhaling deeply, she turned around and walked towards the splintered wooden door, she couldn’t bear to be seen crying, especially with her position within the family dynamic. With one final look over her shoulder she wearily spoke: “He wouldn’t have given up on you.” </p><p>Watching as she left the confines of his room, he closed the door before slipping his hand behind the back of his wardrobe. Removing the surreptitiously placed lighter taped to the back, he fluidly brought the flame up to the wrapped end of the joint before lazily throwing it back onto his bed. Dad had tried to make him conjure Five for a week now, pushing him harder with threats of the mausoleum if he couldn’t reproduce his ghost. His family had started losing faith in his abilities, believing him unable to produce his brother because of his developing drug use, when in reality, it was because he wasn’t dead. They just didn’t want to admit to themselves that he probably didn’t even want to return to this hellhole.<br/>

A bliss flew over his mind as he closed his eyes, letting the feeling wash over him as he slipped away from his outside consciousness. He wasn’t sure how long his eyes were closed, but as he opened them, he found himself adrift within a swirling vortex of dust and debris. The air was dry, sucking all moisture from his throat as miniscule golden flakes of sand stung the delicate nature of his eyes. “Hello?” He shouted into the emptiness before sheltering from the elements behind a crumbling remnant of a wall. A haunting chill ached through his bones, the fear starting to settle over his mind as he acknowledged his surroundings. Braving the winds, he shielded his face from the air as he pushed forwards into the unknown. Silhouettes of destroyed buildings littered the horizon before the figure of a boy sharpened as he moved forward. </p><p>“Hello?” he shouted, gasping for breath as a cloud of dust hit his throat. The figure turned slowly, gormless as it opened its glassy eyes onto the boy in front of him. “Klaus?” The figures voice was scratchy, masked with fear and desperation, but recognisable. “Help me.” It was Five. Klaus ran forward, reaching out to grab his brother, hands just inches from his shoulder before being knocked back into an abyss of darkness.</p><p>Opening his eyes once again, there was no evidence he had ever left his room. No Five, no haze, no desolate landscape, just the odd shafts of light from the window and the whisps of smoke lacing the air around him. What had happened? was any of it even real? It was probably nothing, a daydream, a hallucination brought on from his altered mental state.  Just another image lost in a dream, a vision forlorn in an inebriated state of thought. </p><p>If only he knew it was real.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whumptober day 4!! I quite like this one! In a AU where Five wasn't necassarily in the apocalypse, but a land between life and death that he couldn't escape from. </p><p>Fic title quote:</p><p>Desolate - Greywind</p></blockquote></div></div>
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